Seven Years Bad Luck
by Couatl
Summary: Tate decides to turn to narcissism after being abandoned by all the girls. Oh yes, this is crack. Happy birthday, Tate ?


Disclaimer: I don't own Mai HiME!

Note: Yeah, well, I'm sorry if you like Tate. I don't have anything (much) against him, but he _is_ an awfully fun character to make fun of. My apologies go out to those who dislike Tate being mocked in an utterly cruel way, and I suggest that Tate-fans close this window. Crack ahead.

**Seven Years Bad Luck**

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Tate was sulking.

Yes, the manly-man was sulking. The manly-man to whom every girl is attracted to was sulking. Well, at least "to whom every girl is _supposed_ to be attracted to".

In short, Tate was single.

It didn't seem right. Not in his books. Not in the script.

Tate got panicky when things did not go his way, and almost desperate. When he had two girls after him at the same time, he had been slightly worried, but thrilled.

He also remembered a sweet dream in which he was hounded by nearly every good-looking girl in the school.

Now, Mai had dumped him for her black-haired friend. Tate didn't know what she saw in the little feral – it did not come across his mind that Mikoto was younger, cuter, earnest, and definitely more appreciative.

It was a low blow to his ego.

Shiho, who Tate assumed would be forever loyal to his remarkable charm and quick wits, left him for some other student who was her age.

Nao, the ultimate information bureau, had not-so-kindly informed him that Shiho seemed entirely devoted to whoever her partner was now.

Ah, Nao. The redhead had pointedly told him she was not interested, complete with a frightening gleam in her eyes and a threatening twitch of her right hand.

Tate was given the impression that she wanted to dispose of him right there and then, so he made a quick escape right after that.

Akane already had a boyfriend. Tate felt that stealing her away from Kazuya was abusing his charisma, and he needed to hold up his image of chivalrousness.

Besides, he heard that Kazuya could be quite a savage when he saw other boys flirting with his girlfriend, and Tate did not want to damage his good looks.

As for Kuga, he knew he would be completely shot down once he approached her. Perhaps he'd even escape with only broken limbs, but he didn't think that it was worth taking the chance.

After seeing the number of medical records Takeda had, any smart boy would learn to stay away at all costs.

Kaichou-san was a strange one. She never seemed to be personally attracted to any male, and even Reito could not catch her attention. Not that he would ever want to go after the Kaichou anyway.

Rumors of her being highly-skilled in castration had surfaced amongst the male population after Takeda had been sent to a hospital (and never seen again) once he had gone too far by accidentally slapping Natsuki's rear end.

Tate was a self-sufficient young man, however.

He had decided that enough was enough!

If nobody understood how great he was, he would take their place – after all, he had the best taste out of all of them.

Sidling up to the mirror, he viewed his reflection with smug approval.

"Look at this gorgeous straw-like hair; an eagle's pee-dyed nest!"

He roared with agreement, sticking his large palm into the strands of yellow and ruffling them. Wild will win over the babes!

"Hmm, these brown eyes of molten chocolate have the most alluring gaze ever!"

He nodded sagely, staring at said eyes. Brooding and enigmatic, or cheerful and welcoming? He would go with stubborn and boyish today.

"A gladiator's physique!"

He studied his distinct muscles, slamming a sturdy fist into several areas to test their toughness. They were perfect.

"Pure, rugged beauty!"

He was wholly convinced.

Wearing his most appealing smile, he sidled up to the mirror seductively. He pressed his body against the glass, rubbed a mighty arm across the surface slowly –

"Am I not a fine-looking specimen?"

– And blinked in confusion as it spontaneously shattered into pieces.

---

Happy Birthday, Tate!  
Yeah, he was born on the 16th of November.

Oh, poor Tate. I'm so sorry for putting you through all of this.

You can tell I'm not sincere at all.


End file.
